The Confessor of Littlefield
The Confessor of Littlefield by R.J. Hoffman My language creates itself. It is reason. My intellect controls through my will
Experimental literature and art
The Confessor of Littlefield by R.J. Hoffman My language creates itself. It is reason. My intellect controls through my will
Ghosts In the Junkyard At night Bill continued to write short stories. Ghosts In the Junkyard,” he called them. All
A few months passed before Bill saw Clara pull into the salvage yard again. She had a friend from Chicago
If it weren’t for the devastating attacks on Christian prejudice by so many of Virgie’s friends Bill would’ve been tempted
Mellow Bill’s horse was aging. Mellow was a chestnut quarter horse mare with a grumpy but affectionate disposition. Bill loved
For twelve years Bill settled into routine. He watched television and read the newspaper, which he had delivered to him
Bill was called to the scene of an auto accident late one unseasonably warm December afternoon in 1968, and when
After coming home from the war, John continued to strip cars despite the colostomy bag he now tucked in a
While John left for military service, Bill continued working for Hiram into the Fall of 1960. Hiram was voting for
John advanced in the army corps through three years and became a second lieutenant in an army guerrilla training unit